tears mumbling over and over again, “God forgive me, I killed the wrong man.” Not that Skylar figured that out all at once. The tears garbled the crying woman’s voice; it was only through repetition that Skylar finally understood what she was saying.
“You didn’t kill him,” Skylar said, though she’d seen the wooden bat the woman must have clobbered Cole with, and the fact he was alive seemed like a miracle.
The woman suddenly looked up toward the house. Her tone changed from remorse to fear. “He’s still here! You are friends of his?”
“Friends of who?”
“That man. He took my little girl.”
“What man?” Skylar demanded. “Who are you talking about?”
“Banderas,” she said, spitting the name as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. “How many more must he take?”
“You’re the woman from the hotel restaurant,” Skylar said, finally recognizing her. “What’s your name?”
“Svetlana Dacho. Do you know where he took Malina?”
“Listen, ma’am. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong house. My aunt and uncle live here.”
The woman shook Cole’s arm. “Maybe he knows.”
“Leave him alone. You’ve done enough.”
“Skylar?”
She looked down at Cole, trying to shield his face from the rain with her back, pulling the frantic woman’s hands away from Cole. “Oh my gosh, Cole, thank goodness. Are you okay?”
Thanks to the headlights on her aunt’s car, she could see him try to focus his gaze on her face. His hand slowly went to the back of his head and he winced. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his words broken. “I think so. Was I out long?”
“No, just a few seconds.”
His attention traveled to the woman who had attacked him. “Is that—”
“The woman from the restaurant last night? Yes.”
“Why did she hit me?”
“I don’t think she meant to hit you. I think she meant to hit someone else.”
“Ian Banderas,” he mumbled, trying to sit.
At the mention of the Banderas name, the woman sat back, and her sobs abated. “You know that slime? He left money as though he could buy my silence. Where did he take her?”
Cole, of course, didn’t understand a word of this and looked at Skylar for help. “She’s convinced Ian Banderas is here at the house and apparently has something to do with the disappearance of her daughter.”
“She’s right,” he said, trying to sit. “Banderas is here.”
The woman seemed to sense that Skylar and Cole couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, for she stood suddenly, the bat back in her hand. Skylar rose to protect Cole from another attack, but it wasn’t necessary. Without another word, the woman turned and ran toward the street, disappearing into the shadows and the rainy night.
Skylar looked down at Cole, who had managed to sit. He was rubbing his neck as rain flattened his hair to his head. He looked bedraggled but undefeated as he asked her for a hand.
“Ian Banderas isn’t here,” she said, pulling him to his feet. “I’ll help you back up to the house.”
“No.”
“Cole, really. We’ll get my aunt’s nurse to take a look at you.”
“Not necessary,” he said.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is nothing,” he said, fighting a losing battle with brushing mud off his suit. “I’ve had a lot worse. All I need is my own bed...and an aspirin.” He looked down at the ground as though it hurt to raise his head. “Will you drive me back to the hotel?”
“Of course I will.”
She helped him around to the passenger door, and he got in with a grunt. “Good thing the seats are leather. I’m a little damp.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She closed his door and walked around the car. His coat had kept her body dry and warm, but the wool garment was soaked now and heavy and made slipping behind the wheel a bit tricky. Her hair was as wet as Cole’s, and she turned the heater up and glanced over at him.
His head rested against the seat, eyes closed. “Let’s go before someone comes outside to
“You didn’t kill him,” Skylar said, though she’d seen the wooden bat the woman must have clobbered Cole with, and the fact he was alive seemed like a miracle.
The woman suddenly looked up toward the house. Her tone changed from remorse to fear. “He’s still here! You are friends of his?”
“Friends of who?”
“That man. He took my little girl.”
“What man?” Skylar demanded. “Who are you talking about?”
“Banderas,” she said, spitting the name as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. “How many more must he take?”
“You’re the woman from the hotel restaurant,” Skylar said, finally recognizing her. “What’s your name?”
“Svetlana Dacho. Do you know where he took Malina?”
“Listen, ma’am. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong house. My aunt and uncle live here.”
The woman shook Cole’s arm. “Maybe he knows.”
“Leave him alone. You’ve done enough.”
“Skylar?”
She looked down at Cole, trying to shield his face from the rain with her back, pulling the frantic woman’s hands away from Cole. “Oh my gosh, Cole, thank goodness. Are you okay?”
Thanks to the headlights on her aunt’s car, she could see him try to focus his gaze on her face. His hand slowly went to the back of his head and he winced. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his words broken. “I think so. Was I out long?”
“No, just a few seconds.”
His attention traveled to the woman who had attacked him. “Is that—”
“The woman from the restaurant last night? Yes.”
“Why did she hit me?”
“I don’t think she meant to hit you. I think she meant to hit someone else.”
“Ian Banderas,” he mumbled, trying to sit.
At the mention of the Banderas name, the woman sat back, and her sobs abated. “You know that slime? He left money as though he could buy my silence. Where did he take her?”
Cole, of course, didn’t understand a word of this and looked at Skylar for help. “She’s convinced Ian Banderas is here at the house and apparently has something to do with the disappearance of her daughter.”
“She’s right,” he said, trying to sit. “Banderas is here.”
The woman seemed to sense that Skylar and Cole couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, for she stood suddenly, the bat back in her hand. Skylar rose to protect Cole from another attack, but it wasn’t necessary. Without another word, the woman turned and ran toward the street, disappearing into the shadows and the rainy night.
Skylar looked down at Cole, who had managed to sit. He was rubbing his neck as rain flattened his hair to his head. He looked bedraggled but undefeated as he asked her for a hand.
“Ian Banderas isn’t here,” she said, pulling him to his feet. “I’ll help you back up to the house.”
“No.”
“Cole, really. We’ll get my aunt’s nurse to take a look at you.”
“Not necessary,” he said.
“Yes, it is.”
“This is nothing,” he said, fighting a losing battle with brushing mud off his suit. “I’ve had a lot worse. All I need is my own bed...and an aspirin.” He looked down at the ground as though it hurt to raise his head. “Will you drive me back to the hotel?”
“Of course I will.”
She helped him around to the passenger door, and he got in with a grunt. “Good thing the seats are leather. I’m a little damp.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She closed his door and walked around the car. His coat had kept her body dry and warm, but the wool garment was soaked now and heavy and made slipping behind the wheel a bit tricky. Her hair was as wet as Cole’s, and she turned the heater up and glanced over at him.
His head rested against the seat, eyes closed. “Let’s go before someone comes outside to
Similar Books
